Shikyo
by Kaotsu
Summary: After Light's demise, he ends up in the Shinigami Realm... but why does he look like L? Some SPOILERS, on hiatus until further notice.


Shikyo

A/N: This story is on hiatus/abandoned until further notice. This began as a plot bunny running around my head at Christmas last year; unfortunately, I failed miserably at thinking it through, since I only wanted to get my first fic out by Christmas Eve. The first version was typed up in fifteen minutes with a very limited idea and very little writing experience (which, admittedly, I still lack) and knowledge. A year later, I look back and wonder what on earth I was thinking (or, rather, not). So, I finally decided to edit and fine-tune it a little bit, as well as rectify the myriad mistakes herein. Please keep in mind as you read this that I was twelve years old (and only barely, since my birthday's in October) when I wrote this. For all intents and purposes, this is basically a one-shot/drabble. I have edited this heavily – it needed it – and if you read it before this update, I should point out that it is very different, and, hopefully, better.

Warnings: Spoilers, little bit of language

Pairings: None

The countdown to Light's demise began with the number forty, the number of seconds the Death Note took to work and cause inevitably and invariably fatal heart attacks. He knew he was next; Ryuk had warned him he would be the one to kill him. Light sincerely doubted that Ryuk would suffer through an excruciatingly boring prison sentence with Light, if he wasn't given the death sentence right off the bat. The jig was up, and he knew he'd been outclassed. At least he'd beaten L, although it'd been a pyrrhic victory at best.

_Three… two… one._

The gasp that Light released when his heart clenched and struggled for a last beat echoed throughout the silent, abandoned warehouse.

As the darkness encroached his vision and a white light appeared at the end of the tunnel, only one thought ran through his mind:

_Damn it, L. You win._

Light tossed and turned in his uneasy slumber in the thrall of a dark nightmare. His hands clenched, his nails digging into his palm and leaving small crescent moons on the unmarred flesh. He rolled into a tight, protective ball instinctively, trying to fight off nonexistent terrors. He began quietly crying, tears running down his face silently. He writhed on the bed in the throes of a dark nightmare, messing up the spotless white sheets and blue comforter to the point where he reached the end of the bed and fell off in what appeared to be a painful manner. The shinigami watching the spectacle chuckled at the sight afforded by it.

"Hyuk, hyuk, hyuk."

The sound of Ryuk's unmistakable laugh woke Light up, pulling him out of his restless sleep. He stretched slowly, attempting to work all the kinks out of his spine, but only succeeded in making his back pop painfully. He turned to glare at Ryuk, who only laughed harder at something that was apparently unbearably hilarious.

When Ryuk was laughing, that generally meant that something was going wrong with his perfect plans. He had laughed when Raye Penber's fiancé, Naomi Misora, had given him her false name, and when he had met L for the first time. Basically, Ryuk was his portent, his gleeful laugh an omen of trouble. He was laughing now, uproariously. His demonic yellow eyes gleamed with mirth, his arms clenched tightly around his middle in an attempt to refrain from rolling on the ground.

Feeling slightly irked (not to mention left out), Light bit out, "What's so funny, Ryuk?"

He just laughed even harder, finally giving in and rolling on the ground, laughing his spiky head off (not literally, fortunately for Ryuk).

For the first time since his awakening, Light actually took a look at his surroundings, which were oddly mundane (especially considering his past circumstances) and resembled an ordinary hotel room with generic paintings and neutral colors. He wondered for a second if his death had been little more than an extremely vivid dream before realizing that it wasn't his surroundings that Ryuk found funny. No, Light definitely had to say that it was much worse than that. At least, now he knew what the soft, black spikes obscuring his vision were.

When Light had looked at himself, no matter how briefly, he had almost cursed his genius mind. While for most people it would take them some time to connect the dots, so to speak, he'd figured it out near-instantaneously. But then, it doesn't necessarily take a genius to figure out that he looked almost _exactly _a certain insomniac detective, nor that he sounded, again, just like _him_. At that point, he didn't know what to think, or even do. This was bad. This was very, very bad. He needed answers, and he only had one source available.

"Ryuk, what did you _do_ to me?" he asked incredulously, shock evident in his tone.

Ryuk stopped cackling like a crazy person (which he was) for a moment to mutter briefly, "I didn't do anything to you."

"What the hell are you talking about? I look and sound_ exactly _like L! Do you honestly expect me to believe you when you say that you didn't have _anything_ to do with this?"

Ryuk immediately denied all allegations and changed the subject. "Do you remember me telling you how you were a better shinigami than the whole race? Well, you can prove me right, right now."

"What the hell do you mean, Ryuk? I'm in no mood to talk in riddles. Just come out and say it."

Ryuk hesitated for a moment, but only a moment. He wondered if he should even bother trying to put it delicately… nah, too much trouble. Plus, Light'll probably bite my head off if I don't tell him soon, he realized. "Ah… how do I put this…? Oh, screw it. Hey, Light, you're a shinigami now."

Three… two… one… ah, like clockwork as always, Ryuk mused briefly. Here comes the explosion, predictable like usual.

"WHAT?" Light shrieked, remarkably like a little girl.

Ryuk wondered for a moment if Light had ever had vocal training. He certainly had a healthy set of lungs to be able to get that loud and high in the pitches. Hell, he'd almost hit the record of 'nails on chalkboard'. Then he remembered how Light got when you didn't respond to questions, so he got back on track with:

"I said that you're a shinigami now."

"I got that! How? How the hell does a perfectly normal (albeit genius) human turn into a shinigami? You never mentioned _anything_ about a human becoming a shinigami!"

"Um…" Ryuk tried to stall. Wait; there it was! "You're what we call a 'unique conundrum', in the King's words, not mine. He said something about using the Death Note for such a long time and using it so often affected your very soul. Anyway, as a result, you took on the image of the person most important to you – whether that person was your best friend, worst enemy, wife, or even a kid, if you had one. There! Happy now?"

"Not particularly, no, but that does explain quite a bit," Light replied thoughtfully. At least he wasn't in a towering rage anymore (nevermind the fact that he was considerably shorter than Ryuk).

"So, are you ready to go?" Ryuk asked eagerly, eerily reminiscent of a puppy.

"Go where?"

"To see the Shinigami King, of course…"

And… that's a wrap! If anyone wants to take a shot at this, I only ask that they give me credit for the original idea, a review/PM/email letting me know you're writing it, and I ask for no mpreg. I don't have anything against it; it's just not my cup of tea. Pairings don't matter much to me, so it can be het or slash if you want.

Anyways, ja ne!


End file.
